


what we don't say

by magisterequitum



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/pseuds/magisterequitum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He focuses solely on her, memorizing and cataloguing everything in his mind. Every little gasp, every little noise, every movement, all processed and filed away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what we don't say

They're not talking. 

Harvey thinks they should be. They really should be. They should be saying words and maybe yelling and maybe whispering and maybe he'd scrunch his face up while she stared at him in exasperation and annoyance, but it'd be words. It'd be noise that isn't the sounds of their mingling breaths because they're kissing and not talking. 

He wants to talk. He wants to say many things. Sorry for messing everything up, sorry I ever made you think you couldn't come to me, sorry I put that on you, sorry I ever let us get to this point, sorry you made that choice and ruined it all, sorry I can't tell you what I need to, sorry you're here with me, sorry you choose this, sorrysorrysorry. He wants to hate her a bit. It's been months since the Hardman fiasco, but they never talked about any of it, and he knows she's still mad just like he's still mad; more like he's still mad at himself now and it's a stunning reflection of himself and his failures and inability to have what he wants before him. 

He doesn't talk though. 

Donna's not interested in talking and maybe he's not either. 

"Harvey," she breathes out against his ear, guiding his hand to help lift her dress up out of the way. The windows of his penthouse let in enough light to turn her hair a burnished coppery color. She blinks at him where her head tilts against the wall. She's gorgeous and he wants to say that too, but they're not doing that. 

She's ruined his bow tie already, stripped the edges out so she can now unbutton his shirt and lift it clear from his slacks. 

"Harvey," she says, repeating his name when he doesn't react. Her face shifts, eyebrows arching and eyes narrowing in concern and confusion. 

She doesn't want to talk. That's fine. They don't have to now. He can wait. 

Harvey smiles sheepishly and leans down to kiss her again, hands returning to her waist, pulling the green silk of her dress up. The gown has a low back and he'd spent the night at the partner's function imaging what her skin would feel like to trace up her spine. He wants to know how her skin tastes there too. Unfortunately, Donna's in no mood to move from here, so he'll settle for the wall now and a bed later. He can be accommodating, see. 

Together their fingers tangle to unbutton and unzip his pants, letting them drop away to the floor. Green silk rucked above her waist, it's easy to lift her when she goes with him, using her grip on his shoulders to help. She's still got one high heel on, it's skinny stiletto digging into the meat of his lower back as she winds herself around him with the wall at her back. 

"The pill," Donna murmurs when he hesitates again, reading his mind for him. 

He bites at her mouth as she sinks down onto his cock. They're back to kissing and maybe that's good enough instead of talking. Or maybe it's a different kind of language entirely, but he's not so sure because sex has never been this right now before tonight. 

Their hips move against one another, shifting into a quicker rhythm. 

Harvey's aware of everything else in his apartment in that moment. The sound of the water filter next to the fridge. The faint hum of the taxis outside even though his place is so high up. How the lights play across their skin. The feel of her dress against his arms, the way her nipple hardens against his palm through the fabric, how her mouth gets harder against his. 

He focuses solely on her, memorizing and cataloguing everything in his mind. Every little gaps, every little noise, every movement, all processed and filed away. Maybe later they'll talk actual words. Maybe later he'l learn the feel of her spine. 

He can be patient.


End file.
